I See Shadow People
I see them. Every night, every day, in my home, on the street, in every dirty corner and ugly alleyway, squeezing their way out of every crack in the ground and pulsating in every seam in every wall around me just out of the corner of my eye. I hear their voices, muttering and whispering, speaking and arguing with each other, saying terrible things - things that hurt, things that can't be taken back. I can never quite make out the exact words, but the tones and the inflection they speak with say everything. They don't always speak, most of the time they're silent - but when they do, it's so unnerving. I try to get away from it, but the further I go, the louder it seems to get. I think they do it on purpose, to punish me. They are shadows. They resemble people, but not perfectly. Each one is different, and all of them are warped in some way. Some have legs and arms that are way too long, and gross fingers that stretch out too far. They don't move like people, they are too fast. They move like birds, gliding and sliding around and occasionally waddling or slinking when they have to slow down. I never really sleep anymore. I've seen them my whole life, but I've never gotten used to it. They make me panic, make me feel unsafe. No one believes me, they can't see what I see. They think I'm acting crazy. I scream, I cry, I beg them to believe me, but they only walk away. I try to warn people, try to help them escape, but they never listen. I've seen them kill before. I saw a bird land near one of the creatures. A black hand came and grabbed it, smashing it into the concrete over and over, trying to pull it in. The bird wouldn't go in. The poor thing fell to pieces, hideous gore and viscera everywhere. I watched the poor thing turn to a rotting mess as the maggots devoured it. Tiny little shadow people circled around it, almost like they were mocking the dead creature. There have been times where it was too much. I lost control, and I would try to throw things at them or hit them. They're too quick, they always speed away before I can even touch them. I end up breaking holes in my walls, or hurting my fists against the concrete. I hurt myself sometimes. I think they're telling me to do it, but not in words. I have slit my wrists, I've made slices in my legs and torso, I've cut my face, and I even took off a few fingers. I act strangely sometimes, and I think it's their fault. I think they're telling me to do weird things. By the time I get a hold of myself, I'm in some strange place. Because of them, I get lost sometimes. I end up in the woods, miles from home. Sometimes I end up in a bad neighborhood. It doesn't matter if it's day or night, they're always lurking. Always watching. They never sleep, they never go away. Light doesn't hurt them, it only hides them. I keep the lights on as long as I can, but I know they're still there. Their eyes pierce me, they get under my skin. I know they're always above me, scurrying away as I turn my head to look at them. They love to hide in the corner of my vision, where I can't quite see them, but I still know they're there. They are taunting me, mocking me. I believe they are hunting me. Everywhere I go, they watch me. I don't know what they want, or why they want me, but they are always watching. They hate me. I don't know why, I don't know what I did, but they hate me. They want me dead. I can feel it. When they speak, I hear it in their voices. I am garbage, I am shit, I am awful. I am hated. I disgust them. Some are trapped in the walls, unable to escape. But lately, some have broken free. They enter our world. They touch my things, they move them. They walk across my floors, they poke their heads out from the doorways, they stand outside my windows and stare are me. They are breaking into my world, they are becoming more and more real. There is one who stands above all the rest. I hate him the most. I have only started seeing him recently, and he is the worst of them all. He is the only one who wears clothes. He wears a hat and a large coat. He has deep red, piercing eyes. He doesn't run away when I catch him. He never leaves. He never goes away. He follows me everywhere. Only after hours of stalking me does he disappear, only to come back a few days later. No one else sees him. No one else hears him. I scream at him, I throw things at him, I run after him, but it never works. It does nothing. The people around me all think I'm crazy, but I'm NOT crazy. People have tackled me, they've held me down, they've hit me. Sometimes it's good. Sometimes they're trying to keep me from hurting myself or doing what the shadow people tell me to do. But most of the time, they're just hurting me. I think they're listening to the man in the hat. The man in the hat is watching me right now. I know it. I can't see him, but I feel him. You can always feel him when he's with you. You can feel exactly where he is, and how close he is to you. He'll move around, he'll hide from you, but he'll keep watching you. I don't know how to make him go away. I know that I only see him because he lets me see him. He wants something from me. He's planning something. By the time you read this, I don't know if I'll still be here. I think he's going to get rid of me. I don't know what happens when he gets you, but I know it's hell. Maybe he'll drag me down to hell. Maybe there is nothing on the other side, and he'll just erase me from existence. I have written this just to let you all know: shadow people are real, and the man in the hat is their leader. None of you are safe. We survive because they let us survive. Please, be safe, and live your life like each day will end in your death. Shadow people are real, and they hate us all. Category:Beings Category:DoctorBleed Category:Mental Illness